Beth had spent the night in a park. She had started by parking there to do some serious thinking, ended by trying to sleep her misery away. One of Lubbock's Finest found her at eight o'clock in the morning. He tapped on the Subaru's window, woke her up and sent her on her way without so much as a word about what she was doing there. She suspected that might have had something to do with Bill and his ability to get into things that didn't concern him. It sounded like something he would do, hack into the Police Department computers, put something out on her car and caution the officers to handle the occupant gently. By the time Beth had stopped at a McDonalds for breakfast and shaken her head into some semblance of consciousness she knew that Sam would be long gone for San Antonio. It would be safe to go home. She could sleep, work, do whatever needed doing without that awful broken expression following her, haunting her.
The house was hideously silent when she let herself in. Their bed was rumpled, as though Sam hadn't had the heart to make it up himself when one of their amusing little morning rituals was making the bed. Beth was exhausted and stiff from sleeping in the car. She crawled into bed and allowed herself to rest until eleven-thirty, after which she forced herself up and made herself make up the bed.
She filled her day as she always did when Sam was away, with work and little chores around the house. Though she was afraid of what would happen when he finally did come in, she anticipated his homecoming all the same. She needed to see him, had a hunger for his presence that nothing could blunt. She would deal with the rest, she knew she could as long as he was there, as long as he still loved her. Finally, after her solitary dinner she sat down to the computer to work in earnest on the website she was designing. By nine o'clock...she was asleep in the chair. The emotional stress and strain of waiting had taken more out of her than usual.
Beth...augh...God...damn that fucking HURTS!!
Beth awoke, gasping, glancing wildly around to see where Sam was, to find out what hurt and to fix it if she could.
Damn these late hours. She got up out of the chair he had bought for her and trotted, responding to a sense of urgency, from the office they shared to the bedroom.
Sam should have been home. In fact, if he had come in as scheduled he would have walked her to bed from the office. But his side of the big California king was as empty now as it had been this morning before she made it up.
Beth: Sam? As she spoke into the silent dark she felt something...inside...tug at her. She couldn't explain the feeling but she knew she didn't like it one bit. Something about it made her uneasy, for Sam. She kept hearing his voice, agonized, and the longer she stood there the more convinced she became that her dream and the evil feeling in the pit of her stomach were somehow connected. Something was wrong, drastically wrong. Sam was in trouble somehow. Who could she ask for help when someone was in trouble? Who had resources she didn't even want to know about? She reached for the phone. Beth: Deb? Deb: Beth? What's up? Deb's voice was fuzzy with sleep, but it was amazing how quickly she snapped back. Beth: Is Bill there? Deb: Yeah, he just blew in from giving somebody an attitude adjustment. Taking a shower now, why? Is something wrong? Beth: What gives you that idea? Deb: Something about your voice. Is something up? When did Sam get in? Beth: That's just it, he didn't. He's not here. Deb: What, he was due about ten or so...it's two o'clock! Gerard late and not call? No way! Beth: There's something wrong. Don't laugh, now, but I had a dream...he was calling for me, saying something hurt, but I woke up before I could find out anything more. Deb: I'm the last person that's gonna laugh at you. My grandma was born with a caul and she had the sight...she knew when every last one of the boys was on the way, about the same time I did and before I ever went to the doctor. Are you sure?...Billy, hush up, it's Beth...try picking up something that belongs to him...maybe the feeling will be strong enough so that you'll know something. Beth: Never thought of that. Hang on...should it be anything specific, d'you suppose? Deb: I don't know that it matters, but I'd guess the more personal the belonging, the stronger the feeling would be...no, not a jockstrap, you ass ...whaddaya mean, Gerard don't need no jockstrap...go to sleep...damn peanut gallery here's had a few too many...did he leave a hairbrush or something? Beth was listening to Deb, wandering through the house, searching, eyes lighting on various things until they fell on the USM jacket that she and Sam sometimes playfully fought over. Beth used it most of the time, now and again allowing Sam to wear it, but it was still most definitely HIS in her mind. Beth: I think I've got something. Wait a minute. Beth picked up the jacket, hugged it to her chest, actually slipped it on and wrapped it around herself, pretending, as she always did, that it was Sam holding her in his great embrace. She buried her nose in the light fleece lining, inhaling the Sam-scent that would never really leave it... and dropped to her knees in dawning terror. She knew what was wrong now, just as well as she knew her middle name and how long to leave her tea steep in order to have a perfect cup. That damned airplane...it was the damned airplane. It had done just what she had said it would, it had failed him and now he was down, somewhere far from help, and hurt, badly hurt. Beth: Deb...Deb... She couldn't seem to manage more. The words stuck in her throat. Deb was instantly there. Deb: Beth, what? Beth: Sam...he's...Sam...I told him about that fucking airplane, but he wouldn't listen...he never listens to me... Deb: Humor the little woman, eh? Billy, come on, get up, baby, we have to go over to Beth's. Beth heard Bill's voice faintly, asking Deb what the hell made her think he was gonna get up five goddam seconds after he got to bed. Deb told him. The next voice Beth heard was Bill's...stone sober, low and serious, concerned. Billy: Whatsa matter, girl? Beth: Sam's in trouble somewhere, Bill and... Billy: I coulda told ya that the minute you got mixed up with 'im. You hang on to your shorts, baby. We're on our way. Beth paced the house, turning on all the lights. It was too dark, Sam was out in the dark with nobody and maybe she could communicate the sense of light to him if she lit the house up. When Deb and Billy arrived, Deb immediately began turning off the lights again. Beth: It's too dark...Sam... Deb: Will be more worried to think that you might be alone than about the dark. You tell him we're here now. It'll be okay. Beth: Where's Bill? Deb: Outside, talking to the dog. Billy chose that moment to back into the house, yelling out the door at an unseen but loudly barking canine. Billy: Back, damn you...back off you stupidass hound...trust the Dawg to get a damn dawg almost as stubborn as he is...why don't that monster bite at you? Deb: Because I love him. And he knows it. Don't you, sweetie? Deb opened the door and put her hand out. Bill and Beth vaguely saw the blunt head of a Rottweiler, pink tongue being liberally applied to Deb's hand. Billy: Damn animal. Okay, baby, here's the scoop. I got Pitt monitoring radio bands...police and emergency bands from here to San Antonio. He was comin' back from San Antonio? Beth: Yes, he was. Billy: Okay...now, show me your computer...I'm gonna put out a BOLO of my own for a certain Deputy Dawg and his airplane. Feel that? That was me. Beth jumped a bit in the chair she sat in, Sam's chair. Bill was parked in front of her computer, busy hacking into law enforcement computers state- wide and doing heaven only knew what else. That was fine with her, if it would find her Sam. Meantime she would do the only thing she could, sit in Sam's chair, wear his socks and t-shirts even sleep on his side of the bed if it would keep her close to him and give him the will to hold on until something of Billy's worked and he was found. Deb: Okay? Beth: I swear I'm hearing things. Deb: Like what? Beth: Something Sam always says when he's away. Just before he hangs up or finishes the email or whatever he says 'feel that? that was me.' It was as though I just heard him say it. Deb: Maybe you did. Talk to him, tell him you heard him, that you know and we're looking. Billy: Oh, shit. Bill's voice was flat, slightly annoyed. Deb: What? Billy: You and your metaphysical bullshit, woman, that's what. Talk to him. Tell him we're lookin'. Buncha crap. He can't hear her. She just thinks she heard 'im 'cause she wants to so bad, Christ only knows why. That's all it is. Don't get the girl more bent outa shape than she is. Beth, get the hell t'bed. Deb slapped Bill sharply upside the back of the head, and would have done it again except that he caught her arm in a rough grip and refused to release her. Beth could see his fingers biting into her flesh from across the room, but Deb didn't back off. In fact, she went at him with the other hand. Deb: If it's what she needs to hold on, you're not gonna take it away, you big ass. If you can't encourage her, then just go about your business and keep your big mouth shut. Don't say anything at all. Billy: It's bullshit. Deb: Who says? You think I don't hear your mouth runnin' when you're off in the middle of something? Shut up, you idiot, she loves him, she's scared and you haven't got anything better to offer. Billy's grip loosened, and instead of clouting him further, Deb gently stroked his hair, his rough cheek and cupped his chin in her hand. Billy: You fool women, I swear... Beth smiled at the softness in his voice. She had never even managed to get that out of him. Deb leaned over, nuzzled the top of his head briefly before stepping away and turning to her. Deb: He is right, though. You should try to get some sleep. Beth: I couldn't. Deb: You don't have any idea how long this'll take. Beth: If I go to sleep, I might lose him. Billy: Come on, baby... Billy and Deb exchanged a look as Deb made room for him by Beth's side. He drew Beth to her feet and enfolded her in his arms. Billy: ...if ya sleep, ya might even be closer. Let's go, pipsqueak, come on, shut it down for the night. I'm here...we're here, on the job, we'll tell ya the minute there's anythin' t'know. I promise. Bill drew Beth close to his big body, reached out and pulled Deb in on the other side. Beth tucked the top of her head in under Bill's chin, but it wasn't the same. It wasn't Sam. She started to cry softly. Bill laid his cheek against Deb's hair, leaned forward and buried his nose in Beth's curls. Deb rubbed her back gently. Beth tried to stretch her arms around them both, while they huddled around her, surrounding her, protecting her. TO BE CONTINUED...Sam? Sam?...
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